Granger Shorts
by FallenStar22
Summary: Title inspired by the term 'Pixar Shorts'. An unrelated collection of Hermione-centric drabbles of varying lengths.
1. Rain for Reflection

**AN: The first two chapters have been previously posted but for the sake of tiding things up and to have a home for any more drabbles I may write I have collated them into one story.**

**_Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**

**Story title: Rain for Reflection**

**Summary: Hermione's thoughts on Oblivating her parents. **

**Words: 244**

**Timeline: AU, Hermione returns to Hogwarts for Seventh Year.**

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><p>She sat, staring out of the window at the bullying hailstones that threatened the tranquillity of the Scottish castle. They attacked the soft ground mercilessly, but it almost seemed like a blessing to see the downpour of emotion. It washed away her sorrow and cleansed her conscious from what she had done. It helped Hermione to believe that memories could be vanished away as easily as the rain that eroded the footprints of those who had walked in the castle grounds. The sound of the heavy drops splattering the lake was soothing to her frazzled brain. The routine of NEWTs coupled with Head Girl responsibilities was very different from the tranquil, yet alert state she had remained in for the main part of last year. Whenever she had the chance to rest in her hectic timetable, her thoughts travelled to the choice she had to make at the beginning of last year.<p>

Her parents were safe. That was what she repeatedly told herself. Just like each tree grows new leaves, they could build a new life in Australia. Without her. The memory of their daughter brutally washed away by the splinters of ice falling from the sky. But to anyone who looked out at the expanse of grass only saw renewed greenness – her parents were completely unaware of her.

As quickly as it started the rain came to a close, just like the ending of parental love. She was always going to be alone.


	2. Of All Cursed Days

**_Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story._**

**Title: Of All Cursed Days**

**Summary: Hermione really doesn't like Valentine's Day...**

**Words: 6x100**

**Timeline: Post-Hogwarts, set on Valentine's Day.**

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><p>In the morning, she had thought a bun would be suave and elegant. At ten thirty, after two hours of watching her colleagues flirting with their hair, she decided to take hers down in an unplanned move to feel sexy. She always looked too prudish. Standing in front of the mirror in the toilets at eleven o'clock, told her that this, also, was a bad idea. Her curls had kinked her hair once, and the bun twice again. Her rouge was of a flushed teenager rather than of a sophisticated woman. Today was not a good day for Hermione Granger.<p>

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><p>If her hair was not the bane of her existence, then this day certainly was; she had been dreading it for weeks. Robes were a florid pink, and instead of interdepartmental memos flittering around their heads in lifts, Hermione had earlier walked into a cluster of heart-shaped floaty things. Her colleagues had moved on to spells for <em>seven-hour-lasting body glitter<em>, dear Merlin, were they drugged on four-year-old love potions made by adolescents? The flightiness of her fellow workmates was a distraction from work and Hermione could not stand the unnecessary vapidity of all female conversation. Today was not her day.

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><p>After Christmas, this was the next official holiday and a legitimate excuse for eating too much by tempting curvy girls with cheap chocolate. That was one thing to look forward to, she supposed. The treat may be wrapped in pink, shiny foil with hearts and other sappy, sob evoking messages, but food was food and the phenylalanine rush was useful. After all, who wouldn't want to consume 'love' hormones on the unhappiest day of the year? The veil is lifted when Prince Charming thinks love can be exchanged for sex. You're better off with chocolate than unmet expectations. Problem solved.<p>

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><p>Men. Every problem originated, or was caused by them. Hermione would gladly spend her life researching a way to make women self-fertilising if she could get someone to agree on her plan of ridding the world of men. Ron ate far too messily, Hagrid had an unhealthy obsession with rare and highly dangerous animals, and Harry- well Harry was the 'Chosen One', and while she did love Neville, she wished the other 'Chosen One' could have been a girl. It simply would have been a vote for females in this archaic patriarchal world; she for one, was retaining her surname.<p>

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><p>The problem with females was that they giggled too much. Her office door was propped open and high-pitched giggles floated in at a rate of one every one hundred and sixty eight seconds. That was the least of her worries; males, and decidedly attractive ones at that, had taken to flouncing past her door with sleeves rolled up to their elbows. How exposed forearms exuded sexuality Hermione did not know. She sighed heavily and plonked her head in her arms, hoping that when she emerged her flushed face would have regained her usual composure. She had become one of <em>them.<em>

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><p><em>I wish I wasn't alone. <em>She didn't really mean that, the phrase appeared in her head of its own accord, disregarding her opinions on those pitiful girls who pined over boys. She was a strong, independent woman and proud of it. She didn't need anyone to make her happy, she had her wonderful friends and a job in Magical Creatures Law that satisfied her crazy Fourth Year days. The mushy couples kissing in front of her simply caused these temporary moments of delusion. Being single does not mean you are alone, she chanted. This was why she hated this day.


	3. Light

_**Disclaimer: The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.**_

**Title: Light**

**Words: 100**

**Timeline: DH, while camping on the run.**

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><p>The light outside was of the eye-squinting variety, strong and vexatious but Hermione was bitterly cold without it. The winter had forgotten to take its icy winds with it. Hermione almost wished she had stayed in the filtered sunlight of the tent, but she had spent much of her night plagued by circular riddles and the promise of a spring morning was not to be missed. Her ideas on Horcrux locations were as stale as the weather and the musty air in the tent was stagnant. She needed to escape from this listless lifestyle, of hiding, running and dead ends.<p> 


End file.
